I eagerly worked on my new projects until late into the night, and when I finally realized what the time was, it was 3:30am. So, I reluctantly decided to go to sleep. After all, I didn’t need to work until three the next day, so there was no problem. For a few hours I slept peacefully, until a booming siren went off. Suddenly alert, and quite deafened, I slowly realized that what I was hearing was in fact a fire alarm. After quickly dressing myself, I opened my apartment door, just as huge plumes of black smoke intruded into my abode. Minutes seemed like hours as I braved pillars of flame and destruction, until at last I emerged from the pits of hell into the cold, refreshingly clean air of early-morning Portland.

Okay, so it wasn’t nearly that dramatic, but there was a fire in my apartment building this morning. I was in fact deafened by the noise of the alarm, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. When I walked down the stairwell, however, I noticed a distinct odor of smoke. When I emerged from the building, I saw smoke wafting from a fifth-floor room. The fire was promptly put out, and there was no damage to most of the building, but we couldn’t enter it again for about an hour. By that time, I couldn’t sleep, and went on 3 and a half hours of sleep all day long. I am, therefore, quite ready for bed.